My Immortal
by ErisRocks
Summary: There are worse things than death. MichaelMichael's Hive Queen. Sequel to Memory: How Fickle are you. Spoliers for Michael and Allies.


Hi, guys. Its ErisRocks back again with the sequel to "Memory: How Fickle are you". This starts off where my other story finished. This is my second story and I would like some feedback please.

My Immortal

"What are you doing," my mind screams at me "let go and get away, he is nothing to us now, remember what mother said!"

I know that she is right, it isn't healthy to be putting myself through this torture, he doesn't even remember me. Although he says and I quote "You look familiar." I know, however, that he truly has no idea. With all my heart I want to tell him, share with him the memories of our life together. But I know it will only make things worse. I laugh inwardly. Worse, how could things possibly get any worse? By telling him I would only push him away and force a wedge between us. I needn't fear another female taking him as her mate, they all know, even if he doesn't remember, he is mine and I will kill anyone foolish enough to try.

I speak to him via our telepathic mind link. I tell him that I have other duties to attend to. I feel his chin knock slightly against the top of my head as he nods in understanding, but I can sense his confusion. He unwraps his arms from my body and I straighten so I can meet his gaze. I explain to him that I'm the Queen of this hive and am responsible for its inner workings. He nods again, but I still see that he still has questions. I tell him that I will return later. As I leave I mentally instruct my guards to remain with him.

Later that day, after supervising the repairs of a few old systems, I return to his chambers. He immediately senses my presence and looks up as I enter the room. I silently study his appearance, but something is different he seems…brighter. He elaborates at my questioning gaze that he has recently fed. I smile freely, relieved that he can still feed. He seems content with this and kicks his legs against the bed, a nervous habit of his. I stare forlornly at the bed, as I think of our own down the hallway. I think of all the centuries we slept together, before and after the hibernation, in it. Once more I'm struck with the feelings of anger and sadness, a bitter taste in my mouth. I miss the nights we would spend together. Every night he would either curl up at my back and place a protective arm around my waist or he would hold me close, with my head pillowed on his shoulder and his arm would wrap around my shoulders.

I close my eyes and sigh without meaning to. He fearlessly questions if there is problems. My eyes snap open and I curse inwardly, but never the less I tell him that there are no irreparable issues concerning the hive. This time, however, he isn't satisfied with my answer. He asks me if there is something wrong with him. I'm shocked and I remain silent as my mind struggles to form any reassurance. He continues to speak to me but as if he were merely thinking out loud. He states that every time I am around him I seem aloof and disgusted. I remain silent as he continues his tirade, he rants about what happened to him, how the people who were supposed to care, lied. I can feel his distress and anger. Suddenly he violently throws himself to his knees and grabs at my clothes, begging to be told. I am startled by his behaviour and I move back a few paces, only to have his mood change rapidly and have him stand within inches of my face. I look into his eyes and I am frightened. Anger, hate and confusion burn brightly within them. He continues to question me, his voice getting shriller each time I don't answer. For each question he steps closer, but for each step he takes forward, I take one back until I feel the cool thickness of a wall press tightly into my back. I turn to try to leave, but pressing the advantage, he strides forward purposefully and places his arms on either side of me, so as to block any chance of escape. He leans in closer, his breathing ragged and short. I feel his breath as it hits my exposed neck and chest. I am panicked at his behaviour, its irrational and erratic. I sternly tell him to move, so that I may leave, but he defiantly stands still, a cruel and mocking smile on his face. I'm not sure but he may have heard my voice quiver in fright. He now knows for certain he has power over me.

Determined for an answer he questions me again, but I still refuse to answer as I scowl at him, I do tell him however that the matter is none of his concern. The anger in his eyes burn furiously, I now realise my mistake. He growls low in his throat and I swallow nervously. Then I feel one of his hands wrap tightly around my throat, squeezing slightly, and his talons digging into the tender flesh. In the back of my mind I can sense my guards coming to my aid, but I tell them to stand down, he needs to vent, he has never deliberately hurt me out of malice before. One of my hands comes up as a reflex and tries to claw his away. He seems unconcerned by this and he further tightens his grip, it is getting harder to breath and his talons have pierced the tender skin, now my blood runs in small rivulets down my neck. My vision goes cloudy as he again squeezes harder. My instincts take over and before I know what I am doing my right hand lashes out with its talons and strike at his face. My talons leave four long and deep lashes in his cheek and blood oozes out of the wounds. He howls in pain and abruptly releases me, so he can protect his face. I drop to the floor, coughing and clutching my throat despite the pain it brings. He hasn't moved. The only movement is his hand running gently along the gashes. I move as quickly as I can to the webbed door. Hoarsely I tell him that if he ever attacks me again, I will allow the others to intervene. He tilts his head to look at me and he narrows his eyes once he sees the blood and pulp on my hand and talons, a subtle reminder of my victory, but I know that if there is to be a next time I won't win. I could never hurt him, even in self-defence; today, I was lucky that my instincts reacted.

Slowly I take in small, shallow breaths as my throat begins to heal. He is healing too. The long gashes being sewn back together by an invisible force. I can't stay, as much I would like to, even though he hurt me, I want to be with him. Only now do I realise what mother meant when she was teaching me of a Queen's duties when I was still a youngling.

My mother and I were walking down the hallway to the bridge. My mother strode down the hallway with confidence and grace and as we walked many of the inhabitants of the hive bowed respectfully to her. Her purple leather dress fell to just above her knee high leather boots. Her brown hair fluttering softly behind her as her green skin shined in the dim light. With the curiosity of a child, I asked her how she became such a wise and respected Queen. She smiled down at me, her full lips pulled back to reveal her sharp, blue teeth. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and knelt down to my level, her talons brushing back my hair from my face. She told me that with wisdom comes great sacrifice, a great Queen must learn when to let go of those who would otherwise prove to be a weakness or burden. She said sadly that if I were to become a great Queen, then I too must learn this. She also imparted that it wouldn't be easy, I would just have to keep walking forward. I believed that she spoke in reference to my father; victim to an Atlantean attack, to keep him alive would have only burdened the hive, mother couldn't allow that. She feed from him.

I inhale deeply and leave the room. With each step, I force myself to forget him as my mate, but to remember him as one of my scientists. I would have to forget everything we had. Being a great Queen is hard and I realise as I look tearfully back down the hallway, there are worse things than death.

The End

**A/N: So love it, hate it. Sequel? Tell me what you think just press that little button down there.**

**Later **


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